


The Girl Who Personally Knows Him

by GirlKnownSomewhere



Series: Blues & Greens [4]
Category: The Monkees (Band), The Monkees (TV)
Genre: 1960s, Band Fic, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Misunderstandings, Sequel, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlKnownSomewhere/pseuds/GirlKnownSomewhere
Summary: Three times Peter and Ann are mistaken for a couple at the Tiger Beat offices.





	1. Star Collector

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, Peter and the Monkees are actually featured in this sidefic in name only (although there are plenty of references to them). I was just worried if I didn't tag Peter the fic might get lost/overlooked in the filter, lol. This is just a tiny three-piece on Ann's life at the office when she's away from the guys. Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Monkees, Tiger Beat or Ann Moses' likeness.

Ch. 1: Star Collector

Santa Monica, July 1968

The Tiger Beat office was winding down quietly near the end of the Wednesday afternoon, with half the staff either out for projects or at their desks typing or editing. Ann was reading through a rough edit of the next issue when one of the youngest interns for the magazine walked up to her spot. Barely looking up, she could tell it was Ellen, an 18-year-old high school graduate. 

“Um, Ann…”

“Yes?” She responded not leaving her current paragraph.

“I forgot to tell you I’m going to be out of town for my aunt’s wedding in two weeks…so I can’t take photos of the Beach Boys press conference…” The teen revealed cautiously.

“That’s fine. Chris is going to be on that side of the city anyway for a Buffalo Springfield set. I’ll just ask him to stop by the event for a few minutes,” Ann answered. Ellen let out a relieved breath and relaxed. The head editor noticed she didn’t leave though and briefly looked up to see her with minor apprehension.

“Can I ask…how cool is it…”

“Hmm?”

“…to date a Monkee?”

Ann raised her eyebrows in amusement as she set down her pencil. “I’m not sure, Ellie. You’d have to ask Phyllis or Sam.”

Ellen then looked a little confused. “But…aren’t you and Peter…?”

It hit Ann that Ellen was one of the girls who happened to see Peter when he unexpectedly stopped by early morning last month. “We’ve been friends for a couple years. Happens when you work around the same people all the time.”

“…I thought I saw you guys hugging…” She said not completely convinced.

“You don’t hug your friends?” Ann teased.

“…Well…yeah…Not even once?” 

“Nah.” Ann rested her arms on her desk and continued playing along. “Come on, Ellie. Everyone knows Peter’s the bachelor of the Monkees.”

“Oh…right…” She appeared disappointed before her eyes sparked up again. “So you’re saying he’s single?”

Ann crinkled her nose and considered the question. “…You should probably wait a couple years before going out with a music artist.”


	2. Stranger Things Have Happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is inspired by a real question in an issue of Monkee Spectacular
> 
> https://monkees.coolcherrycream.com/articles/1967/12/monkee-spectacular/monkee-rumors
> 
> Since I wanted this to fit in the timeline/narrative of my multi-chap fic, I moved the published date to August '68 instead of December '67, meaning this is set the month MS went out of print. So we're going to pretend the Monkee Rumors column was printed in Tiger Beat instead of MS. :P

Ch. 2: Stranger Things Have Happened

Santa Monica, August 1968

After the turbulent events from last week between Ann, Mike and Peter, the writer turned editor was relieved to spend a quiet, ordinary day in the Tiger Beat offices. She was usually the first to find as many assignments and happenings in the city as possible; but right now she felt like she needed a bit of a reminder of what it’s like to be a normal person with a normal job. Currently Ann was answering her regular ‘Monkee Rumors’ column for the first time in a while. It was going to be the zine’s last addition as the fall season is going to replace the column a new series on the Box Tops instead. Ann sighed at another reminder of how much popularity her friends had lost in the past four months. She tried to put her mind into the state it was last year when both Tiger Beat and Monkee Spectacular would regularly get dozens of fan letters with questions on their TV-radio faves. Usually questions like ‘Who is Davy dating now?’ and ‘Is it true Mike left the band?,’ and she would also have to come up with some light-weight responses to ridiculous rumors like ‘I heard Davy wears a toupee,’ or ‘Is Micky really an orphan?’ 

This literary Q&A session started no different than any from the past issues, with the goofy gossip pondered by the junior high crowd. But…wait… _‘What the…’_

Ann crinkled her brow and squinted at the second to last note in her small pile of questions. She looked up into the office space. “Hey, Nick,” she called over to her associate editor two desks beyond her. He glanced up from the op-ed he was presently editing. “Is this a prank?” She asked holding up the piece of paper in minor puzzlement. 

Nick just shrugged. “As much of as any of the others, I guess. Why? What does it say?”

“Someone just…flat out asked if I’m married to Peter,” she replied a little cautiously.

He laughed. “Really? That’s funny.”

“Uh, sure,” Ann said sarcastically, not nearly as amused as he was.

“Was there a lead up to the question? Or is that it?”

“Well…the fan started the message mentioning that he saw me and Peter at RCA together…and then noticed I was wearing a ring on my left hand…” She trailed carefully. What were the chances that fan just happened to see Ann console Peter in the RCA lobby a week ago? _‘This ring doesn’t even look like a wedding band,’_ she thought.

“Well, you two do hug…and hold hands…a lot…” Nick pointed out.

“…He does that with everyone,” Ann reminded him.

He let out a slight chuckle. “Alright. You realize some of the photos we’ve published of you guys over the years, right? Like that one of him cupping your cheek…”

Ann hated that she could feel her face heat up at the memory, even now, this far into her friendship with Peter. “Yeah, well…that’s just, you know—whatever, this is a dumb discussion and the fan’s question is stupid anyway,” she hastily claimed while shaking her head and looking back to her typewriter with a huff of breath. She could vaguely notice Nick turn around to his desk with a smirk. An hour before leaving work for the day, Ann passed her Monkee Rumors piece to Nick for him to double check for typos. He raised an eyebrow and looked back to her desk again.

“‘That’s a groovy idea’?” He repeated the first line of her answer to the marriage question out loud.

She sat without expression for a long moment. “…Well, I am supposed to be the voice of all these bands’ fanbases,” she claimed.

“Even now, as the 21-year-old head of a magazine?” Nick teased.

Ann let out a frustrated sigh. 

“You’re not really doing yourself any favors,” he lightly noted with a grin. “Just saying.”

She closed her eyes in minor defeat as she heard him place the featured piece back on her desk. “The rest of the piece looks fine, by the way,” he commented before walking to his seat. Ann just stewed lethargically in her chair and passively eyed her notes.


	3. Riu Riu

Ch. 3: Ríu Ríu

Santa Monica, December 1968

After starting the holiday season on a lukewarm note with the Head premiere, then following up with all the excitement of the Yellow Submarine premiere to finally experiencing the rather out-of-character lunch with Mike Nesmith last week; Ann was ready for a normal holiday party finally. Not that the holidays had been the only weird period lately. The whole year had been a bit out of whack for the most part; what with almost getting together with her close friend Peter Tork last spring to starting autumn with a long distance relationship with Maurice Gibb. The young writer-turned-editor went from frustrated to impressed with her love life in just a season. Tiger Beat’s annual Christmas party was sure to be a fine way to begin December. Ann stepped into her work building wearing a long-sleeved, black velvet dress that went to her knees along with a pair of black leather flats. She kept her trademark long locks over her shoulders and applied just a basic red lipstick to make her look a little holiday appropriate.

Since the party was with colleagues and associates, the environment wasn’t exactly wild, but still looser than usual with the alcohol and sugar to partake. A portable record player played Christmas tunes by a window. Ann was standing by her usual desk with a glass of slightly spiked apple cider, observing the shindig leisurely, not in the mood to mingle currently. A little less than a minute later, one of the more popular column contributors, Mary, sauntered over to Ann’s corner. The latter noticed the slightly younger woman had discreetly added plenty of gin to her punch and was now on her second cup. Mary raised her free hand animatedly as she caught Ann’s eye.

“Annie! You were right, the office parties here are totally cooler than at ‘16,’” she stated referring to her previous magazine job, which happened to be Tiger Beat’s competitor.

Ann nodded casually as a reaction and took a small sip of cider.

“So you show up alone tonight? I thought your boyfriend was around,” Mary continued before taking a gulp of her punch.

Ann slightly crinkled her brow in minor confusion. “No, he’s in London…where he lives…”

Mary then looked a little confused herself. 

“…I was supposed to visit Maurice’s family the week of Thanksgiving, but then his dad suddenly convinced him that those six days would be better suited rehearsing…” She explained further.

Mary shook her head slightly and tossed a strand of her brown hair to the side. “What? I was talking about Peter.”

Ann’s confusion grew. “Peter? We’ve never dated.”

“Seriously? I’ve seen photos of you two,” the co-worker stated vaguely in disbelief.

Ann kept her perplexed expression. “We aren’t kissing or anything in them…we’ve always been friends.”

Mary took another sip of her small cup before setting it on Ann’s desk. “I don’t hold hands with my friends. At least not the boy ones. I figured you were why he broke up with Mama Cass’ sister.”

The editor closed her eyes and sighed in frustration. _‘How does this keep happening?’_ “No, I’m not. I don’t know what to tell you. He’s just…really friendly. I’m with Maurice and Peter’s with…a new girlfriend who’s about to move in with him.” Well, that’s what she heard, if tabloid pieces were somewhat true. She still hadn’t seen him since that millisecond at the movie premiere last month.

“Oh,” Mary said plainly. “What a drag not being able to see your real boyfriend though. Do you just call him every night?”

Ann took another sip of her drink, “Yes…and sometimes he calls me. He sends me postcards while touring too…Not that it’ll matter soon. He’s going to be in town in a couple weeks,” she revealed.

The colleague picked up her own drink again. “He should write you a song to make up for it. I can’t believe you’re constantly around all these music guys and you don’t have your own song yet.”

Ann shrugged. “I guess names with one syllable are too simple for lyrics.” 

“You never know,” Mary nudged with her elbow. “I used to think I had a boring, old name my whole life, then I bought the second Monkees LP and suddenly got both Micky and Davy singing my name!” She exclaimed giddily.

Ann smirked playfully. “I’ll let them know of your appreciation.”

“Is it true that song ‘Valleri’ is about one of the girls from the TV set? How’d she get a song before you?”

The reporter straightened up, suddenly not feeling in the mood to continue the topic. “I don’t know. I heard that song might be about that actress Valerie French,” she fibbed.

Mary shrugged. “I caught some of the Monkees’ new movie at the drive-in last week. I didn’t really get it though. Why didn’t they just make a movie like **Help!**?” Mary asked as she finished her punch.

Rather than reveal her long-winded theory on the film’s polarizing tone, Ann just replied: “I have no idea.”

The younger girl gave an exaggerated sigh and tossed her empty cup into the nearest trash bin. “Well have fun with your boyfriend next week—the English one, not the Monkee one.” She stretched her arm while simultaneously waving as she left Ann. The journalist gave a barely efforted wave back and shook her head.


End file.
